mayday. the alphabet was a system of blackmail
complacent, would skate on our regulated senses
“sister, I hear the thunder of new wings”
some crap about the immanence of vowels etc
(a) an offensively wholesome social milk
(e) understood fucking as a swarm of conformity. was
(i) what was locked there was. chatter, flies etc
(o) a stringent regime of structural reforms &
(u) well, targets, neutrality. a closed circuit of abstract numbers
& us, locked out. the alphabet was, ultimately, not ours
in any case, its mythological shells, its crumpled octaves &
spectra, zilch / the conversation a hierarchy of
eclipse (as in a universe, infinitely compressed)
our desires lack density & social flame
“our silence is powerful”
“the voices you strangle today”
This is exciting
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